Maya's POV
The sharp chime of the doorbell cut through my restless sleep at exactly eight Monday morning. I had been tossing and turning since Sebastian walked out of my house yesterday, my mind spinning with thoughts of our kiss, this crazy arrangement, and the upcoming trip that felt more like a trap than an opportunity.
"Maya!" Mom's voice drifted through my bedroom door. "Someone's here with packages for you!"
Packages? My stomach dropped. I hadn't ordered anything recently, which could only mean one thing.
Dread pooled in my chest as I stumbled out of bed, throwing on my worn terry cloth robe over my pajamas. My bare feet padded against the cold hardwood as I made my way to the living room.
Mom stood by the front door, pen poised over a digital tablet held by a man in an immaculate black uniform.
"What's going on?" I asked, though the sinking feeling in my gut already provided the answer.
